I've been a Leeds fan for as long as I can remember. When you are about five or six, you adopt a team - obviously, I didn't grow up in Leeds. I grew up in a small town on the Irish border, and most of the people my age were Leeds fans, both then and now. This was a reaction to the presence of so many Liverpool and Man United fans around us. That and the fact that an Irishman, Johnny Giles, played for Leeds.

From the beginning, I was conscious of being Irish and supporting an English side. I used to ask people from Leeds: 'Is it OK? Do you mind me claiming your team as my own?' I asked them this because you would often hear anti-Irish chants and songs from a few rows back. That was always a bit bizarre.

Johnny Giles is my favourite Leeds player, without doubt. He was a fierce competitor. I met him once, at a black-tie event in Dublin, which was one of the great nights of my life. Tony Currie was another great favourite, even if he only played for a short time at Leeds. His wife told me once that she was a big fan of My Hero. These are the moments I treasure.

In some ways, we have lost the plot in recent years. I think you probably have to go back to the court case, or perhaps to the original [Woodgate/Bowyer] incident, which should, of course, never have happened. Apart from however horrific it was for the victims and anyone else involved, it had a huge impact on the club. I don't think even the most ardent Leeds fans can appreciate what an impact it had on the players. These are things that go deeper than superficial football matters.

I think it is fair to say that [David] O'Leary lost all sense of proportion. He should never have published that book, Leeds United on Trial. He just couldn't shut up. He and Peter Ridsdale were swept away by ambition; they had a vision for the club that forced them to start buying players that they didn't even need. We had the nucleus of a great squad, a youthful and inexpensive squad, and they didn't really have to keep adding to it with expensive signings. Ridsdale, I guess, was your characteristic smooth-talking, egotistical chairman. Like O'Leary, he had a keen eye for self-publicity.